Veil’d here from man’s sight
By the many mistaken,
Unknown and forsaken,

Here I wing my flight! 
Compassionate spirit! 
Let none ever hear it,—­

Conceal my affliction,

Conceal thy delight!

The hunter.

To-day I’m rewarded;
Rich booty’s afforded

By Fortune so bright. 
My servant the pheasants,
And hares fit for presents

Takes homeward at night;
Here see I enraptured
In nets the birds captured!—­

Long life to the hunter!

Long live his delight!

1789.
-----
Who’ll buy gods of love?

Of all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
From distant lands we bring. 
Oh, hark to what we sing! 
These beauteous birds behold,
They’re brought here to be sold.

And first the big one see,
So full of roguish glee! 
With light and merry bound
He leaps upon the ground;
Then springs up on the bougd,
We will not praise him now. 
The merry bird behold,—­
He’s brought here to be sold.

And now the small one see! 
A modest look has he,
And yet he’s such apother
As his big roguish brother. 
’Tis chiefly when all’s still
He loves to show his will. 
The bird so small and bold,—­
He’s brought here to be sold.

Observe this little love,
This darling turtle dove! 
All maidens are so neat,
So civil, so discreet
Let them their charms set loose,
And turn your love to use;
The gentle bird behold,—­
She’s brought here to be sold.

Their praises we won’t tell;
They’ll stand inspection well. 
They’re fond of what is new,—­
And yet, to show they’re true,
Nor seal nor letter’s wanted;
To all have wings been granted. 
The pretty birds behold,—­
Such beauties ne’er were sold!

1795.
-----
The misanthrope.

At first awhile sits he,

With calm, unruffled brow;
His features then I see,
Distorted hideously,—­

An owl’s they might be now.

What is it, askest thou? 
Is’t love, or is’t ennui?

’Tis both at once, I vow.

1767-9.
-----
Different threats.

I once into a forest far

My maiden went to seek,
And fell upon her neck, when:  “Ah!”

She threaten’d, “I will shriek!”

Then cried I haughtily:  “I’ll crush

The man that dares come near thee!”
“Hush!” whisper’d she:  “My loved one, hush!

Or else they’ll overhear thee!”

1767-9.
-----
Maiden wishes.

What pleasure to me
A bridegroom would be! 
When married we are,
They call us mamma. 
No need then to sew,
To school we ne’er go;
Command uncontroll’d,
Have maids, whom to scold;
Choose clothes at our ease,
Of what tradesmen we please;
Walk freely about,
And go to each rout,
And unrestrained are
By papa or mamma.